


The Perfect Fit

by frankcastles (Deathtouch)



Series: The Bigger The Better [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dominance, Embarrassment, Fisting, Humiliation, Large insertions, M/M, Shame, some spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-12 07:09:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7925362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathtouch/pseuds/frankcastles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>☛ in which peter finds a baseball bat in stiles' room. ah, but stiles doesn't play baseball...?</p><p>
  <i>Peter picked up the bat by the handle and held it aloft for a moment. He brought the end cap up to his face and took a deep whiff. He could smell the northern white ash wood, and the chemical scent of gloss polyurethane. Most importantly though he could smell that earthy bodily smell, and what was unmistakably dried KY jelly. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Stiles had been using this thing as a sex toy. There was no other possibility.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perfect Fit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Udunie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Udunie/gifts).



> another special little gift for my favorite fic writer, Udunie! her teen wolf fanfic inspires me so much! i wrote this on a whim and decided it ought to be dedicated to her as a special thank you for being so patient, so understanding, so kind and so lovely. 
> 
> please heed the warnings! there's a lot of talk about large insertions and no sex, only fisting. please keep that in mind before reading on. thanks!! this fic unbeta'd so my apologies for any errors or mistakes.

Stiles' room smelled like any other teenage boys room. There was a pinch of dirty laundry in the air, hidden under a layer of Axe body spray. Neither of these things could mask the smell of sex though. Stiles wasn't having sex with anyone other than himself but enough masturbation left hints of sour sweat, salty come, earthy bodily smells and the unmistakable scent of KY jelly. It wasn't really that bad, altogether. It smelled like boy. It wouldn't be a bad idea to crack a window every once in a while though, just to let some fresh air in.

Peter wasn't going to mention it. He certainly did have some crude joke locked and loaded, but he wasn't actually going to say anything out loud about sex or masturbation. That was until he saw the baseball bat. It was so innocuous, really. A simple Louisville Slugger propped up beside the headboard of Stiles' bed. That wasn't so weird, and in any other high-schoolers bedroom it wouldn't be... except that Stiles didn't play baseball. Peter hated that he knew enough about this kid to know that. He was well aware that lacrosse was Beacon Hills' sport of choice. Not baseball.

"- - tell me what." Stiles waved his arm in front of Peter's face, trying to get his attention. "Dude! What!"

Peter blinked. He must have gotten lost in thought for a moment there. He didn't take his eyes off the bat. Not yet.

Stiles let out a hot tempered sigh. "You charged all the way upstairs and bust open my bedroom door because you just had to tell me something and now you're standing here stock still like a-"

Peter held up a hand to silence Stiles. Stiles was more taken aback by it than intimidated but it did stun him enough to shut him up for a moment. He looked at Peter's face and then followed his line of sight, glancing over towards his bed. He noticed the baseball bat too, and instantly his heart quickened a few paces.

"What?" He snapped defensively. "What are you staring at?"

Oh, the evidence was just piling on. Peter could hear the thrumming in Stiles' chest. He could see the color start to rise on the boy's neck just above his grey shirt collar. Peter hadn't even accused him of anything, and he was already blushing bright red.

A sharp toothed smile spread across his features as he walked across the bedroom. He went straight for bat. The closer he got the more Stiles seemed to panic but he was frozen still, watching and stammering from where he stood.

"W-what are you.."

Peter picked up the bat by the handle and held it aloft for a moment. He brought the end cap up to his face and took a deep whiff. He could smell the northern white ash wood, and the chemical scent of gloss polyurethane. Most importantly though he could smell that earthy bodily smell, and what was unmistakably dried KY jelly.

Stiles had been using this thing as a sex toy. There was no other possibility. He was shoving this thick bat right up his ass. God, he was such a young kid. Did it really fit up there? It had to. The smell was all over it. Stiles had cleaned it with soap but his scent had seeped into the wood, and Peter knew that smell anywhere.

"Oh, Stiles..." Peter said more in awe than anything.

Stiles burned with embarrassment and shame. He didn't move to speak. He didn't try to say anything at all. He just watched as Peter turned the bat over in his hands a few more times. He knew he was caught. He burned to speak, to explain himself, to beg Peter not to tell anyone or say anything. It was written all over the terrified expression of his pretty little face. Instead he just stood there, turning even more red with humiliation when Peter sniffed the bat again.

Peter wouldn't be able to get this kind of unadulterated smell unless he was right up between Stiles' cheeks, eating his ass out. The scent was kind of appealing in a way, like filthy sex. He still couldn't believe the kid had fit this entire thing inside of him. The width of the bat was so thick. That must have taken some doing... and his hole now. God. It had to be wrecked...

Peter's attention shifted from the Louisville Slugger in his hands to Stiles standing at the foot of the bed. He looked the boy up and down. He made the decision then and there. This lithe little body was being wasted on baseball bats and bedroom masturbation. Peter could have so much more fun with it.

"Take off your clothes and bend over" Peter gestured with the bat as he spoke.

Stiles fingers twitched as if to comply, as though he was completely willing to tear his shirt off. It took half a second before the request really clicked in his mind. "What?" He asked in confusion.

Peter cracked the bat against his palm with a loud smack, loud enough to make Stiles jump. "Now!"

Stiles actually did it! He hurried to pull his shirt off. His incessant blushing was spread all down his chest. He swallowed nervously as he undid his jeans. When he cast an uncertain glance up at Peter, he was met with an impatient gaze. He hurried out of his jeans, barely remembering to kick off his socks. His fingers were trembling as he pushed down his boxers. Stiles childishly covered his cock and balls with his hands as soon as he was naked. Little did he know, Peter had no interest in his dick what-so-ever.

"Over the bed." Peter told him.

It was like he had been waiting all his life for someone to tell him what to do. Stiles ended up on his knees, seeing as the bed was so low to the floor he could not properly bend over it otherwise. He bent at the waist, chest flat against the mattress. He had his head turned away, refusing to look Peter in the eye.

Peter prodded at Stiles' thighs with the bat. "Spread them wider." He demanded.

He waited for Stiles to comply before squatting down, leaning on the bat for balance. He was eye to eye with Stiles' exposed hole. He tutted out loud at the sight. It was bright red, vibrant compared to the smooth pale cheeks of Stiles' ass. It wasn't the tight, puckered sort of thing usually found in high school virgins. His sphincter muscles were puffy and thick, likely tender to the touch. His hole did not close entirely, but revealed a fleeting glance into bare pink insides before giving way to black darkness.

Peter reached out. He placed a warm hand on the globe of Stiles' asscheek. With his thumb he pressed at the gaping entrance and was surprised to see his thumb-tip was admitted, dry, with absolute ease. Stiles' hole just opened for him.

The boy made a tortured, whimpery sort of moan. His little toes curled. Peter glanced up and he could tell that Stiles was crying. His back was rising and falling in scared little gasps.

"Please don't tell anyone how bad it is..." He begged pathetically. "Please."

That's what he was so embarrassed for? That's why he was crying? Because his hole was sloppy and loose? He really was so ashamed of himself... If only he knew how incredible of a feat it was to stretch an asshole out like this, and how badly Peter wanted to ram his entire fist up Stiles' ass and make him plead for an entirely different reason.

Peter stood, and considered for only a moment before spanking Stiles' hard with an open palm. The boy yelped and squirmed and cried harder.

"No more baseball bats." Peter scolded him, and he spanked Stiles again. A massive red handprint had formed on Stiles' bare ass cheek. Peter made another similar mark on the other cheek. "No more improvised sex toys. That sloppy hole belongs to me and my fist only now, do you hear me?"

"Yes." Stiles cried out.

"Where do you keep your lube?" Peter demanded.

Stiles sniffled and cried. He didn't answer. Peter glanced around the room a moment, and considered all the best hiding places. Teenage boys weren't known for their ingenuity in hiding things though... He went to the sock drawer against the wall. Peter thought he might have to dig around but the lube was sitting right on top of a layer of socks.

When he turned back to the bed, Peter saw that Stiles' eyebrows were drawn together in uncertainty. He looked up at Peter for a moment, searching for something with his expression. His eyes were rimmed with tears. He was so confused. He didn't seem to understand how he had ended up naked, bent over his own bed, agreeing to be Peter Hale's personal glove.

The answer was simple, of course. It was because he wanted it. If he had any real qualms about what was happening he would have put up some kind of fight, said something snarky or unkind. Instead he had undressed willingly, let Peter see his gaping hole, he had agreed at once to be Peter's. Even now he lay there not arguing, not moving, letting it all happen. Peter smirked. Stiles' would be the perfect little fuck toy.

Peter returned to his squatting position at the foot of the bed, between Stiles' legs. He took his watch off of his right wrist, and rolled his sleeve up as far as it would go. He considered taking his shirt off entirely, but he didn't think he'd go elbow deep. Not this time at least.

"What are you going to do?" Stiles' little voice spoke up, almost fearfully.

"This is mine now." Peter reminded, giving Stiles' ass a lewd squeeze. "I'm going to see how well my fist fits." He uncapped the lube and poured it on his hand. Poured it and poured it and poured it. When his fingers, his knuckles, the back of his hand all the way to his wrist were dripping wet with slick he felt safe enough to continue. Peter kept the lube uncapped by his side though because he knew they would need more.

Peter started with three fingers, the middle three between his pinky and thumb. He bunched them together and brought them to Stiles' hole. All it took was a gentle push and all three fingers were swallowed up with ease. Stiles moaned, a little sound he tried to cut off as soon as he made it.

Peter eased his three fingers in and out a few times, slicking Stiles up inside as he did this. He pulled his fingers out and added a little extra lube before pushing all four in. There was a little resistance this time, but Stiles' body opened for him. Slow and sweet he eased his hand back and forth, coaxing Stiles' already wide hole to open wider. When he was sure Stiles could take it, he pulled his hand back and formed his fingers into a cone.

He pushed his the cone of his hand into Stiles' fat, glistening hole, watching and feeling with awe as it spread wide for him. He didn't try and sink his hand in very far. Instead he pushed his finger tips in and spread them open. Stiles made a small pained noise.

"Relax." Peter told him.

He carefully stretched Stiles in this way, slowly but surely widening him. It wasn't so hard really. A cock would have slid in with ease, but this was a fist they were going for and Stiles' hole needed a little work. Fortunately Stiles was used to such big insertions and he made the process very easy. It wasn't long at all until Peter had his hand out again. He retreated his entire hand with lube, and even squirted a generous amount into Stiles' hole which was now sagging open quite a bit.

Peter formed his hand into a fist. Not the kind of fist he would use to punch someone in a fight, but a carefully angled fist that he would be able to slowly work into Stiles's ass.

One knuckle at a time he went. Slowly and surely with constant pressure. Stiles made low noises of pain but not of protest. It was incredible to feel his warm body enveloping Peter's fist. His puffy hole was taut and tight around the width of Peter's hand, bright red and beautiful.

The widest part of Peter's hand, just before it gave way to his wrist, was understandably the hardest to fit in. By the time he had that much shoved inside of Stiles' the kid was crying again. Peter remained pressing in, gradually, slowly...

"It won't fit." Stiles sobbed.

As soon as he said it his body gave way, and Peter's hand popped right inside. Stiles' hole clenched around his wrist in a terrible spasm. A scream of shock and pain erupted from Stiles' throat.

"Shh," Peter quieted him, patting the boy's backside with his freehand. "It's alright."

There was no silencing him, though. Stiles shook and sobbed and cried out loud. "No, no, no." He was saying. And "Oh god." Peter would have just pulled his hand out to put an end to all this, and to quell Stiles' emotional reaction, but he couldn't rightly yank it out. It was a process to remove and stiles would not stop bawling. He was trying to say something between his cries...

"I came." He moaned in horrified embarrassment. "Oh, God. Oh, no. I came. I came."

Peter was stunned silent for a second. He could smell it now, the sharp salt in the air. Stiles' cock was trapped beneath his belly, still pressed to the mattress. His sheets were likely a mess. If Peter hadn't been so focused on getting his fist inside of Stiles' ass he would have noticed how close the boy was to orgasm. What a feat. Stiles really did love big insertions, didn't he?

"Well, let's see if I can get you to come again." Peter smirked. Stiles had enough time to adjust. He pulled back with his arm as if to pull his fist out. He saw Stiles' hole bulge. He then shoved in as deep as he could, which wasn't much further from where his hand had been resting inside of Stiles a moment ago.

Stiles screamed again, but Peter wasn't worried this time. He knew that was a scream of intense pleasure along with the pain. He kept going, and he didn't stop.

When Stiles finally climaxed a second time, Peter had his arm halfway shoved into the boy's body. Stiles was about three inches away from devouring his elbow. They were both sweaty and lube slicked. Stiles had gone from moaning and screaming to serene, quiet panting. He let out a guttural noise when he came a second time, and that was the only real noise he made at all. Peter had pushed him pretty far, his mind was drifting away.

It took a while to extract his arm. His hand was the toughest part to pull out again. Stiles' hole looked as wrecked as ever. It hung open, unable to close. It was puffy and loose. Peter could see deep within him if he bent down to put his eye to Stiles' hole. God, what a sight.

Peter picked Stiles up with relative ease. He wasn't heavy, he was just in an odd position and wasn't responsive enough to roll onto his back or side. He cradled Stiles to his chest and sat down on the bed with him. The kid was a mess. His stomach was splattered with sticky come, his face was salty and dirty with tears, his body was covered in sweat and lube in endless places.

Stiles opened his eyes, struggling to focus. At once they welled up with tears. He looked up at Peter. His lips moved as he tried to whisper something. Peter bent down close to hear him.

"...am I a good fit?" He breathed into Peter's ear.

Peter couldn't help but smile. "A perfect fit."

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading
> 
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